


The One Where Two Horses Meet

by fascinationex



Series: the TF Equestrian AU [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Equestrian, Equestrian, Horses, Humanformers, M/M, Megatron's crush on Optimus is also a major character, Minor Character Death, Soft MegOp UST, mentioned only in passing - Freeform, sometimes a relationship is two men and a spoilt horse and several other much less spoilt horses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27557623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fascinationex/pseuds/fascinationex
Summary: Megatron tips his head back so he can stare more fully at the ceiling. HelikesOrion Pax. HeowesOrion Pax. But Megatron alsoreallydoes not want to be the repository of Orion Pax’s vicarious grief. He breathes out, tapping his fingertips lightly upon his still-injured leg. It’s ensconced now in a boot, which keeps the still-healing bones from moving during the ‘very light’ activity he's allowed.“It’s fine. I’ll take care of it. Just get them here in the morning.”“You’re sure,” Orion frets.“Yes.” Megatron is firm. Human Orion Pax he doesnt have much idea what to do with, but the horses he gets.
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime, Skyfire & Starscream (Transformers)
Series: the TF Equestrian AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941025
Comments: 24
Kudos: 104





	The One Where Two Horses Meet

**Author's Note:**

> neveralarch wanted skyfire and starscream to meet, but as horses
> 
> this has been proof read once for typos but not like properly edited

“I won’t be gone long,” says Orion on the phone. “Only—the weekend? Probably?” 

“Uh-huh,” Megatron grunts. “I’m still not allowed to drive.” Or ride, which is almost more of an inconvenience. 

Megatron is ‘getting around just fine’ in his own opinion, and he hasn’t really shared that opinion with his doctor following his last check up. Even when Orion or Soundwave are available to help with the care of the horses, he still checks on Thundercracker and Starscream every day. 

A broken leg isn’t going to keep him from it. 

The horses expect him, anyway. And Starscream, at least, will begin to fret if he doesn’t see Megatron regularly. 

“You’d have to trailer them here,” is all he says.

“Sure, that’s fine. Both of them trailer well. I’m really sorry to even ask it of you, honestly, I didn’t expect—”

“Yes, well, we don’t usually have forewarning of friends dying in car crashes,” Megatron interrupts. Then he reflects, pulling a face, that this is probably insensitive, and keeps going in the hopes that he just won’t have to address the first comment: “Just get them here in the morning. I’ll make sure Thundercracker and Starscream are out, and then you can get going.”

“Oh, well, Gears and Cliffjumper weren’t even my friends, really,” Orion says, apparently determined to address the comment that Megatron least wants him to. “But Bumblebee’s—we were close, when he was younger, and I can’t imagine what he feels like…”

Megatron tips his head back so he can stare more fully at the ceiling. He _likes_ Orion Pax. He _owes_ Orion Pax. But Megatron also _really_ does not want to be the repository of Orion Pax’s vicarious grief. He breathes out, tapping his fingertips lightly upon his still-injured leg. It’s ensconced now in a boot, which keeps the still-healing bones from moving during the ‘very light’ activity he's supposedly cleared for. 

“It’s fine. I’ll take care of it. Just get them here in the morning.”

“You’re sure,” Orion frets.

“Yes.” Megatron is firm. Human Orion Pax he doesnt have much idea what to do with, but the horses he gets.

“ _Thank you_.” Orion exhales, long and slow. 

* * *

Megatron’s less sure in the morning, when he wakes aching all over after what feels less like six hours of sleep and more like a short nap. 

The ugly, bulky boot might be bracing his slowly healing bones but it is also forcing him to use muscles he’s never really even noticed before. His back hurts. His hips hurt. 

He doesn't know how the horses are going to get along with his existing pair, and he also doesn't know how he's going to feel after a few days of caring for all four of them.

He gets up even though he feels rubbish again, twists with an ugly groan, and goes through the whole process of getting dressed—kind of an ordeal, lately—before heading out into the silvery dawn air to let the horses out. The practice of getting them in their stalls overnight is not strictly necessary in that they don’t need to be indoors, really, except in the most extreme weather conditions. In the field itself, there is a shelter made of sturdy wooden columns and a sloping corrugated iron roof, set too high for them to hurt themselves on any of the edges. It does just fine for pretty well anything short of a blizzard. But in general, the practice of keeping the horses in their stalls overnight ensures they stay used to handling, keeps them to a routine, and gives Megatron the opportunity to check in with them daily. If one horse is off his feed, unusually temperamental, lame, restless, or otherwise showing some kind of change—he feels it’s better to know about it fast. 

Usually he takes them one at a time back out to their paddock when he gets up with the sun. In an ideal world it would never be necessary to go one at a time. In the real world, though, Starscream will sometimes try to mutilate Thundercracker for being the object of Megatron’s attention for more than about 0.3 seconds.

Lately, however… 

Lately, he really prefers not to do the walk twice. Once is enough exertion, and, frankly, he shouldn’t let Starscream get away with the shameful degree of spoilt nonsense that he does.

(Orion, he has noticed, is very nearly worse. He seems to have developed an honest fondness for Starscream, which is both hopelessly endearing and a dire statement on Orion's judgement.)

Megatron goes to collect Thundercracker first, which is easy. Thundercracker is, as always, a completely sensible animal. He sees Megatron, raises his head and twitches his ears forward, and then huffs warmly at him when Megatron limps awkwardly into nosing distance. 

Megatron snaps a lead onto his halter mostly out of habit. He knows if he lets him loose and clicks at him, Thundercracker will probably just follow Megatron’s hobbling walk up to the paddock anyway. This is all part of the routine, and he knows where he’s going.

Thundercracker's a good horse. He is tractable, easygoing, bright enough to train but not clever enough to get bored and cause problems, sound and steady enough that Megatron thinks you could probably trust him with a tiny child on his back (Megatron has not the misfortune of knowing anyone with tiny children).

If Thundercracker had _half_ the sheer native talent of Starscream, Megatron would clean up at every event he tried. 

Unfortunately, there’s only one Starscream. 

And Starscream is... putting it diplomatically... _spirited_. 

Both of the horses show some awareness that Megatron is "lame". Thundercracker slows down for him without being asked—hell, he even stops, sometimes, when he thinks Megatron needs a rest. Starscream, on the other hand, takes personal offence to the broken bones, and once again this morning Megatron’s bad leg gets lipped and nosed and shoved at. 

Starscream even bares his teeth at the boot, exactly as though he’s looking to take a chunk out of it—

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Megatron warns in the direst tone he can muster. Starscream pins his ears back, flat to his skull, and throws his head up. The whites of his eyes are plainly visible. 

Starscream certainly excels at _looking_ like a dangerous beast.

Megatron pokes him between the shoulders, in the soft part of his chest.

“No,” he rumbles. 

Starscream snorts at him and turns his head away, like he definitely was not just thinking of committing any terrible anti-boot crimes. 

Megatron regards him for a long moment. 

Starscream’s ears twitch. He manages a look of pure innocence, despite having been innocent for exactly zero per cent of his life, ever. 

He shakes his mane. Whickers softly. 

He gives Megatron an expression of wounded sincerity. _No crimes here, no sir._ “Uh-huh,” mutters Megatron. 

This morning he comes easily enough when led. He doesn’t even try to bite Thundercracker for daring to be on the end of Megatron’s other lead, which is an improvement. 

Halfway up to the paddock gate, Starscream does decide that he is ravenous and wants the grass _specific_ to this one patch on the left-hand side of the worn pathway. He stops and refuses to go on, leaning down to nibble instead.

This is probably a ploy for attention. He usually wants all of Megatron’s attention at any moment he can feasibly get it, and will try everything from being cute to regular disobedience to outright assault to attract it. Megatron tries to only reward him for things that fall into the ‘being cute’ category, but Starscream is clever for a horse, and negative attention is still attention. It’s a battle.

This morning, he plants his hooves and doesn’t move when prompted. Megatron contemplates muscling his head up away from the grass with brute force—the horse’s head is one of the few parts of him that he can definitely force to move, at least.

He feels exhausted just thinking about it, and his balance isn’t amazing in the boot. 

He takes the gamble of unclipping Starscream while he’s busy stuffing his face with delicious trailside grass, and then he shuffles on with Thundercracker instead.

Starscream’s ear swivels as they start leaving. He only allows them to get so far before his head shoots up, responding to the sounds of them getting more distant and leaving him behind. He snorts in offence—and then mysteriously resolves his hunger for that particular patch of grass. He hastens to catch up at a brisk trot. 

He shoves his face into Megatron’s back when he reaches him, which Megatron tolerates only because he’s expecting it. Judiciously, he clips the lead back on. He’s not a complete fool.

This is a painless morning, considering the alternative possibilities. Megatron has both horses out in their paddock before Orion Pax rolls up, bringing his trailer up at what must be the slowest pace he can legally get away with. 

It's an ancient-looking and battered two-horse trailer which was probably once white, and Megatron can see a pale flash of horsehair through the openings in the outside. The tyres crunch over the gravel and then more subtly over the dirt, following the incline of the hill up past the house and towards the stable.

Orion shoves his head out of one window just to see where he can get closest to the stable, and then takes several long and painstaking minutes to try to get the trailer's doors aligned with the incline of the ground.

Megatron comes out of his house to watch this glacial progression, leaning on the railing of the porch. His leg renders him slow, but he has plenty of time. 

“Sorry,” Orion says finally, getting out. His boot hits the dirt, and the door of the car closes with a firm thump. 

Orion looks _good_ in faded blue jeans and old boots, which makes Megatron feel marginally less like he’s made a mistake in offering to keep the man’s horses for a few days. 

“I thought it’d be faster… oh, look at your boot,” he adds, eyeing the mud on it. “Is it okay to get it dirty like that?”

“I’ll clean it up later,” Megatron says placidly, by which he means he doesn’t actually know but isn’t worried. “Do you need help?”

Orion makes an uncertain noise, but unlike other people ( _Soundwave_ ), he doesn’t pry or push. “Right. No, no, I’ve got it. ...Jazz is on stall rest still. He wouldn’t have to be, but everything’s so muddy at the moment…”

Megatron grunts. Jazz has a recently drained hoof abscess. He knows this. It’s why Orion’s pulled the trailer up so close to the stable, and probably why he was driving at the speed of a geriatric sloth, even over the good smooth roads in the area. 

He watches while Orion unloads Jazz. It is not a fast process. Megatron can hear Orion crooning to him gently as he slowly backs him out of the old trailer. There’s an odd moment taking that first step off the trailer and onto the dirt, and Megatron realises why placing the trailer was important: the angle of the hill makes it a lot smoother for Jazz to disembark with his injury. Jazz’s hind end sags awkwardly because he’s unwilling to put the weight on his one, mummified back hoof. But then after a moment he seems to realise at last that his butt is, in fact, free. The, the front hooves come a lot more easily.

Orion, of course, coos and tells him what a good, steady boy he is. It sounds so soft and gushy and saccharine that it’s embarrassing just to listen—and then, inexplicably, a weird part of Megatron is almost envious. _Why_ , his traitorous hind brain seems to ask, _does Orion Pax not tell me **I’m** wonderful for accomplishing very little?_ This is absurd, and Megatron will not entertain it. 

Back in the real world and firmly not in the dark and unplumbed depths of Megatron’s psyche, Megatron usually resorts to rewarding his horses with sugar. He can’t imagine baby talk being very effective, and secretly suspects that Starscream, at least, views displays of affection only as opportunities for exploitation. (It’s certainly what the manipulative little shit does with Orion.)

At last he’s free of the trailer. It's the first time Megatron has actually seen Jazz in the flesh. His training videos are accurate: he’s a striking thoroughbred with a dark, dappled grey coat and long legs. 

The horse is clearly been given something. Megatron isn’t completely sure he’ll remember meeting him, later, and he doesn’t do more than sort of lumberingly limp toward the stable when Orion leads him there.

“Skyfire’ll be a lot faster,” he says, when he finally returns. 

“I’m in no hurry,” Megatron reminds him. “Although I have to remind you that Starscream’s in that paddock,” he adds.

He’s already cautioned Orion about this, but Orion seems not to be terribly concerned. While Thundercracker gets along just fine with virtually anyone, Starscream can be… as difficult with other horses as he is with other humans.

“I think it’ll be fine,” Orion insists. Again. 

Megatron grunts. It… _might_ be fine. 

Jazz is a small thoroughbred, not much more than fifteen hands. The horse Orion Pax backs off the trailer next is a veritable giant, and must presumably look absolutely absurd standing next to him. 

He comes off easily, one dinner plate-big hoof at a time, stepping down with cautious precision. He is huge, and dense with ropy muscle besides.

Skyfire looks around curiously, sniffs the tyres, and whuffs softly at Orion’s reddish hair, but otherwise stands patiently still while Orion makes sure he hasn’t bruised his legs or upset himself in some way during the ride. 

Megatron watches, and comes to say hello when he’s invited. Skyfire is even more enormous up close, but he is immediately friendly, and seems to soak up all manner of petting and soft, low talking. 

“He’s pretty easygoing with everyone—adults, small kids, other horses, dogs, you name it. He’s easy to catch, too. I don’t think you’ll have much trouble with him for a few days…”

“Hmm.” 

Orion smiles brightly at him, showing off the tiny lines around his eyes. Megatron's stomach flips over horribly.

“Thanks for this. I know it’s an imposition, especially given your leg.”

“It’s fine,” Megatron says, flat and uncomfortable. Searching for a change of subject, he looks up at the position of the sun. Orion won’t be able to stay much longer. He has a plane to catch. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Come on,” Orion says to Skyfire, who follows his lead at a slow, ground-eating walk, head bobbing gently with the motion of his hooves. Megatron has been told he has an old pastern injury that makes him unsuitable for work, but it’s impossible to see it from casual observation at the walk.

“Usually I’d ask Ratchet,” Orion goes on, continuing a conversation Megatron thought he'd escaped, “but he’s away at some kind of conference this week.”

Megatron grunts to show he’s listening, but really his only knowledge of Ratchet is that he is a large animal veterinarian—not Megatron’s regular one—who once came out at eleven o’clock at night just to diagnose Starscream with a minor toothache.

“To be honest, I’m not sure who’s looking after _his_ ponies,” Orion adds with an uncertain frown. “Um, but, if you run into any problems you can call me—even if it’s during the funeral, I’ll still step out and answer. I’m not speaking or anything.”

Megatron can look after two extra horses for a couple of days. He has two of his own. “I’m sure it will be fine,” he says. 

“Jazz won’t need changing until the morning after tomorrow,” Orion keeps talking. 

Megatron has also seen hoof abscesses before. He knows what to do, and also when to call for a farrier. He hums, patiently.

“Are you sure they won’t be,” Orion starts. 

“Orion,” Megatron says, forestalling any further fretting by laying one hand flat on his forearm. Orion stills, looking down at the hand. 

Skyfire stops walking, too, and blinks around. From here, he can already see the other horses in the paddock. 

“It will be fine,” Megatron says, holding Orion’s gaze. His eyes are very blue. Megatron does not know what he might see in his own face.

“...Right,” says Orion, swallowing visibly. 

Megatron lifts his hand, and then goes to get the gate ahead of them.

“Ah, oh, no, let me,” Orion blurts, flustered, and shoves Skyfire’s lead rope at him before hurrying forward to get the gate instead. 

Starscream likes to shove his head into Megatron’s chest and try his hardest to knock him over. Skyfire’s skull seems enormous, but he's not aggressive. He just noses him gently and breathes a soft sigh against Megatron’s collar and then placidly submits to having his snowy white face scratched while they wait for Orion to drag the creaking gate open. 

“Thanks,” Orion says. 

Megatron isn’t sure what he’s thanking him for. He nods anyway. 

Orion unclips Skyfire’s lead line and releases him into the paddock. 

“Still worried about how Starscream’s going to go with a new horse?” Orion wonders, watching as Skyfire sniffs a fence post then begins inspecting the grass for deliciousness. 

“Worried isn’t the right word,” Megatron says, although he’s not sure what the right word is exactly. Some vying for position isn’t uncommon when you loose a new horse into an existing herd—even a tiny, two-horse herd like this one. There’s usually a lot of squealing and bared teeth, and sometimes some pawing or nipping. Starscream has, occasionally, been known to kick, to bite, to lash out with his front hooves—he positively hounded Thundercracker when he’d been introduced. Megatron had to fit them in around obstacles so they were close enough to see and smell each other but too far to touch or taste. It had taken weeks to settle.

Skyfire is certainly big enough to take care of himself, of course. But being big enough to trample a horse Starscream’s size without even noticing the bump is not likely to stop Starscream from bullying him if he wants to. Thundercracker is bigger than Starscream, too, and he certainly isn’t at the top of the pecking order in this paddock. 

They wait there for a while, Megatron leaning heavily upon the fence to get his weight off his leg, and Orion Pax leaning shoulder-to-shoulder with him, both watching to see how the introductions go and if someone needs to step in and catch Skyfire to break it up.

It’s colder now that they’ve stopped walking, and Megatron can feel Orion’s body heat leeching in through the fabric of his shirt sleeves. It’s a comforting feeling. His mind drifts as they stand there. 

He jerks his head up from his contemplation of the grass at the sound of Starscream’s sharp, high cry.

Next to him, Orion hums thoughtfully, and out in the field Starscream circles Skyfire, sniffing and snorting. His tail swishes back and forward, held high. Next to Skyfire he looks comically small—particularly to be baring his teeth like that.

Thundercracker, unsurprisingly, barely looks up from where he’s cropping grass. He’s near enough to hear and smell what’s going on, and his ears are tuned in, but he plainly wants nothing to do with this hostile meet and greet. 

At length, Starscream stomps one hoof, pawing up a clod of muddy earth, and walks forward like he’s just going to go straight through Skyfire. Skyfire only turns his giant head to the side and takes a wary step back. 

This seems, on the surface, to absolutely incense Starscream for no reason Megatron can really see: he pins his ears back and screams. 

Skyfire side-eyes him. He backs up a step. Stills at Starscream's huff. Then, stretching his neck out to its longest length, he leans out—and down, so, so far down—and sniffs him again.

There is a lot of uncertain sniffing for several long moments. Starscream doesn't try to bite him.

“Doesn’t look that bad to me,” Orion says slowly, at last. 

“I suppose not,” Megatron agrees. Which is… a little baffling, actually. He expected this to go much, much worse. He’ll take it though. “I’ll walk you back to the car. You can’t miss your plane.”

Orion heaves a big sigh. Megatron doesn’t blame him. He’d much rather stand here watching the horses until sunset than set off to be moral support for someone during a funeral. 

“Yeah,” Orion says, straightening up at last. “You're right. Alright.”

They leave the two horses nosing each other’s faces in the paddock, breathing each other’s air. 

**Author's Note:**

> \- if you liked something please feel free to let me know in a comment, if you're into that
> 
> \- these fics are in no way a guide to anything to do with animal welfare or care
> 
> \- at some point i will also tell you what happened to Ratchet when he went to his conference. it was pretty wild.


End file.
